Following the Right Path
by castielandhisassbutt
Summary: Following the events after SEASON FIVE. Minor to Major spoilers for those who haven't seen the show this far.
1. Introduction

**FOLLOWING THE EVENTS AFTER SEASON FIVE**  
_SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEASON THE SHOW_

Dean is left at a choice he has to make after Sam has gone to purgatory with Lucifer still inside his body. Left behind to pick up the tracks and continue with his life, Dean denies Lisa and decides to try and find a way to help get Sam out of the hell. He will do whatever it takes... but Dean finds help from an unexpected friend who is more than willing to lend a hand.

Castiel is met with a opportunity to lead the angels in heaven. But when a rebellion is happening thanks to Raphael, he is forced to ask Dean for help. But, when he finds Dean in shambles after what has happened to Sam, he realizes that Dean needs help in his own way. Setting aside the problems in heaven, Castiel decides that helping Dean is now his main priority. In the midst of Dean's melodrama, Castiel is faced with a problem. Either lead the angels, or become a fallen.


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**::..

Dean had a choice to make. A choice that would change his life forever. He had been down oh-so-many roads before, but this road was something completely different. Sam was gone, down in the cage, locked away with Lucifer and Michael, and he was by himself. Dean hadn't felt more alone in his life. He'd ignored the calls from Bobby and he'd found himself outside Lisa's place. Castiel had healed him and Dean found himself gifted with some sort of second chance, but he didn't know if he wanted this. He didn't know if this was what he was destined for.

Tears had stained the hunter's eyes many times, but not like this. He lifted a hand and curled his fingers into a tight fist. This wasn't right. Sam wasn't meant to be down there. His eyes closed tightly and he sucked in a deep breath, the memories of hell haunting him. He needed something to take aay the pain, away the memories coursing through his every fiber. Maybe Lisa was part of his escape, just maybe. He opened up his eyes and swallowed hard, knocking on the door three times. He had made a promise to Sammy, so he would hold up his end of the promise.

But as he waited for an absolution that would never come, Dean wondered if he had really held up his end of the bargain. Wasn't he supposed to look after Sam? Wasn't that his job as an older brother? Hadn't he promised to be there no matter what? He bit the inside of his cheeks, reminding himself that he was only burring his vision more and more with the past. His thoughts were ugly and he tried to stop thinking, but Dean's thoughts wouldn't rest. They kept going and going at a hundred miles an hour. He was used to this train of thought, used to the way they would make him feel. But he was always able to fight it back.

When Lisa's door opened up, Dean thought he was going to pass out. Everything he had done felt pointless without Sam. The sacrifice Sam had made? It killed him inside, "Dean?" Lisa's voice barely registered inside Dean's head as he stepped forward and into her home. Lisa moved out of the way, closing the door behind him, and then Dean collided with the floor, landing straight on his knees. Pain seared through the base of his knees and up through his thighs, sending a chill up his back, bu it seemed to barely phase him as a weight crashed around him. He lost control, he began to sob. Lisa went to the floor with him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling the hunter close to her.

Dean's head rested against Lisa's chest as he realized that it was over. Lucifer. Sam. Michael. The angels. The Apocalypse. His heart wrenched itself into fifty directions as his hands gripped one of the arms wrapped around him, feeling the warmth Lisa provided him. It was comforting, but it wasn't enough. It didn't feel right, not like a touch he yearned for suddenly. Sam _wanted_ him to be here. So did _Bobby_. This was where he could start over, but he didn't want to start over. He wasn't ready for that and he didn't he could without Sam. It wouldn't be the same. He couldn't live without Sam. The air flowing through him was stale and lifeless and as he sat there on the floor, sobbing, feeling weak, all he wanted was for it all to be over, but it would never be over. Not for him, "Sammy's gone," he choked out. Lisa was silent though, thank God, for she knew that he needed to talk. To let it out - or so Dean assumed.

But that wasn't the only thing Dean was thinking about. Where was Castiel? Up above and holding down the fort? He could recall the bewildered angel mentioning something of the sort. He didn't know, and Dean didn't know if he wanted to know the whole truth. If God had helped Castiel so many damn times in a row, why couldn't he help Sam? What had Sam done to deserve purgatory? He fought back his sobs now, lifting his head as his eyes rested on Lisa, "Are you staying?" she asked in a small voice. He opened up his mouth to say _yes_, or no. He wasn't sure, but his eyes caught something. A familiar face looking at the broken man in shambles with a curious eye, and that was how Dean made his decision on what he was going to do, "I can't," he said, looking to Lisa with darkened eyes. Lisa nodded, trying to understand, wondering why the hunter had returned if he was only going to leave again. She wanted to protest, but she knew better than to argue with the stubborn Winchester.

Dean got to his feet and looked to Lisa who stood upright with him, "Thank you," he muttered out, not knowing what else to say. There was so much Lisa wanted to say to Dean. She wanted to continue holding him close in her arms, but she remembered what Dean was like. She knew better, she knew he would come to her if he needed it, and he had. Dean had sought out a form of comfort and had gotten what he wanted, but Lisa wanted more. Lisa also knew that she could never impose that on a man like Dean, especially with the state he was in. And the look in his eyes said he wanted to leave and just disappear, because that was all he had. A wish was all. Dean had wanted it for the longest time, and as he stood there, he realized that there was nothing more to be said - which was why he nodded to Lisa, suddenly turning on his heel and finding his way back out the front door. The weight heavy on his shoulders, still burdening his every move and every thought - but what else did he have? He couldn't help but to wonder as he made his way out the door, leaving behind his one chance at normality.

Lisa stared at the back of Dean's head, trying to figure out what she could say to change the man's mind. From the moment Dean had come back to her and said some crappy goodbye of sorts, she had wanted nothing more than to see his face again, but the look in his eyes.. she wanted to help him somehow. To heal the broken man. Deciding that the worst thing she could do was wonder, she ran out the door, leaving Ben to watch as his mother grabbed Dean by the arm and stepped in front of him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. It blew Dean away the moment her cherry-flavoured lips touched his, the sudden gesture sending a spark jolting through his mind. Yet, Dean was unable to reciprocate the emotion he was getting from Lisa. No, he pulled away, looking to her in mild disbelief and shock, "I can't," he pulled open the door to the '67 impala, the squeak of the door more comforting than anything right then, "I know," Lisa said as she stepped back a few feet, her voice heavy. It was then Dean thought that maybe he shouldn't have shown up. But he revved the engine to life, listening to the impala purr like a kitten as he looked to Lisa, "I'm sorry," he stated, pulling the door closed.

His eyes found Ben at the front door as he switched into reverse. The kid was waving at him as Dean pulled out of the driveway. He had no idea where he was going or what would happen next. But he waved goodbye to Ben, driving down the street. He couldn't stay, he couldn't let Ben see him like he was. It wouldn't be fair to Ben or Lisa, and Dean wasn't prepared to dump his problems on them, "Not as sorry as I am," Lisa said, watching as Dean drove off down the road. All Dean could think about was Sam telling him everything would be alright. It wasn't fair that things were like they were, because as far as Dean was concerned - everything was most certainly not going to be alright. Not at this rate.

And by the time Dean was on the outskirts of town, he pulled over, his heart racing a mile a minute. Why had Lisa's kiss felt the way it had? Why hadn't it felt like before? He gripped the steering wheel tight with both hands, not noticing how white his knuckles went as he glared daggers at the empty seat beside him suddenly, "God damn it, Sam," he mumbled, loosening his grip. He was going to be burdened with the heavy weight of loneliness because he had chosen this path. He'd chosen to be alone, and he would have to live with that. With or without Sam and Castiel, even Bobby. He leaned back in the comfortable seat of the impala and looking to the rooftop. Things were changing more and more every second and he knew there was work to be done. He would have no problem continuing to hunt - because that's what Sam would have done. It was what his father would have done. Hunting was what their family did best and that was what he would continue to do... and while he was doing that, he would be trying to find a way to help Sam. With that final passing thought, Dean switched the gears into drive and pulled back out onto the narrow highway.


	3. Turning Tables

AUTHOR'SNOTE::..  
**Brief Summary**..  
It is six months since what happened with Sam and Dean is still dealing with the repercussions of the incident. He is more reckless with sleeping with women - but this isn't completely abnormal for him. But a surprise visit from Castiel reminds him just how alone he is really feeling, and that all the hunting isn't going to change anything.

Castiel finds himself in a tough spot. When he finds Dean, he knows the hunter is broken and he needs to help him out - but Cas' also needs to focus on fixing things upstairs. He reaches out a hand to ask for Dean's help, not knowing just how badly damaged Dean is from what has happened and then goes off on a lead.

_This chapter is mainly filler_  
_Things will pick up AFTERWARD._

* * *

**Chapter One:: Turning Tables**  
_Following the Events after Season Five_

**Six Months Later**

A sigh escaped the exhausted angel's mouth as he stood before two bodies. Two emptied bodies. Things had been growing darker above with the expanding rebellion. Castiel found himself being faced with choices he never thought he would have to make. He needed to locate an old friend, and he also needed help. Things were becoming more and more complicated then he imagined they would. He looked to the silver dagger in his hand, the instrument he had used to kill the two before him. An angel killing sword. He tucked it away beneath his vessel's trench coat, knowing it was safe there. He felt for Jimmy sometimes, but it wasn't the same as other things he thought about. There was more plaguing his mind than just an angel rebellion. At that present moment, Castiel was finding himself in a complicated situation. He knew he needed help, and he knew who he could ask for help from - but the problem with that equation..? The man he needed help from..?

_Dean Winchester._

Castiel was well aware that Dean had fallen off the map. His presence lingered inside him still from the moment he had laid his hand upon Dean's shoulder and dragged him from the depths of perdition. It provided him with more of a tied bond to the man than he had anticipated, but he did not regret it. The man was estranged, but Castiel had an immense amount of respect for the hunter. He was damaged, but wise, and Castiel was able to see this. What he wanted was to help the man and seek his help as well - but he was having problems locating him. There was also the fact that he was trying to keep his own location off the radar, trying to avoid the prying eyes of Raphael who was leading the rebellion above.

Even though they had been fighting the apocalypse in the past, things had just seemed genuinely easier through the angel's eyes back then. He had been battling those who were bent on putting the course of things back on track, and he couldn't understand why. Though, his mind retraced the steps of the past and he remembered when Raphael had told him that they just wanted to rest. That they wanted _Paradise_. They still had no idea on what '_Paradise_' was exactly, but he had his own ideas. He recalled what Dean and Sam had mentioned in the past. Though, thinking of Dean only brought back the reminder that he was looking for his friend. Was he a friend? He considered him a friend - from what had been said before, they were friends. The human communications were still a fuzzy thing for him, and he recognized his understandings were a lot different. He didn't know if he would ever fully understand their '_speech_.'

At that present moment though, Castiel was still standing over the two empty bodies, stepping forward and over one body, only to suddenly be somewhere else with a simple gust of wind. He was no longer in North Dakota - a place he didn't know well. No, Castiel was now standing in small town, having followed a trail given to him thanks to the two dead bodies back in North Dakota. He stood off to the side, not directly in the line of sight of an onlooker up the street. His eyes glanced around, not being able to sense any true disturbances. It was night time and the moon was high in the sky, Castiel was not oblivious to this. He also wasn't oblivious to the open brothel just up the road. A small town, unfortunately. But, fortunately, this made it easier to locate the man he was set on locating.

Inside the brothel, sitting on a stool away from the usual small town patrons, was Dean, eyes focused on an empty shot glass in front of him. All he had hit was dead end after dead end after dead end. He laughed, choking back another shot of tequila before running the back of his hand across his mouth, dropping it and turning around on his tool, looking to the pretty looking brunette dancing around a pole that could use a good change. And another woman. His mind lingered on this for a moment, the thumping retro-like music crashing against his eardrums. Seconds passed before he shook his head and got to his feet, still holding a normal stance. He thanked his high tolerance for alcohol on this one. Besides, even if he got drunk, there was a nice and comfortable bed waiting for him back at the motel just up the street.

The hunter had tracked a shapeshifter into the small town that was causing some heavy disturbances, but seemed to be living a normal life. But this shapeshifter was special in a special way - from what Dean had tracked down, it seemed to know something about the pit below his feet, where Sam was hauled up inside and suffering only God knew what kind of treatment. But as he thought of the term _God_, he choked back a bite of laughter, heading out of the door. The smell of the brothel was not like the other times, it was different. Just like everything before. Yet, as he walked out the door, a woman was following him out, placing a hand against his upper arm to stop him from walking. He could smell her perfume before he even looked at her, his eyes closing for a fraction of a second, then his eyes fell to the woman distracting him from his not-so-important thinking that he had been doing.

Dean looked to the brunette with her hand on his arm and he knew exactly what she was thinking - which was why it was no shock when the door to the motel room was shoved open and kicked closed as his arms closed around the girl in an effort to find some sort of comfort in it. He heard one of her hands lock the door behind them and his hands grabbed the edges of her shirt and tugged it off. She followed his example, grabbing his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. His hands traveled down her sides and he knew that what he was doing was just like everything else he had done the last six months. He was just trying to escape, trying to forget what he was trying to do. Dean needed a break from the fire building up inside him, which was why the girl was suddenly pushed onto her back on the bed and Dean was crawling on top of her. The girl beneath him who was looking at him with lust-filled eyes reminded him that this was his escape. If only for just one night, he could live with that.

Her golden eyes focused on him as one hand touched his chest, running downwards as she played with his belt buckle, his lips going to hers in an effort that begged for her to let him get lost. And as time went on and clothes met with the floor in a manner that was quicker than what some people would have liked in their situation, Dean found himself laying next to a woman who was now asleep. He was staring at the ceiling, knowing he had just gotten laid on the basis of him being broken. That he'd been doing shots of pure tequila at the brothel-type place. He closed his eyes gently, drifting into a mellow sleep that he would regret almost as quickly as he had fallen asleep. It amazed him what could pull him into a dream-like-state when he'd just been awake merely seconds ago.

Dean's dreams brought him no closure or sustenance, no. He was left standing in a room filled with nothing but darkness all around him. A light turned on about a few years from him and Sam's body was laying there. Dean watched as his brother's body ignited into flames and was suddenly being lifted into the air, chained up and wounds appearing as if it was him hanging there. He remembered what it was like, and when Sam's eyes shot open to look at him, eyes narrowed, he felt the failure welling up inside him, "Sam!" he cried out, but Sam shook his head, pain writhing his face, "_Why, Dean?_" was all Sam said before Dean woke up, a cold sweat coating his body. He looked beside him, the brunette with no name laying next to him. He quickly ran both hands across his face, reminding himself repeatedly that it had just been a dream, that he was fine. That Sam... Sam wasn't fine... was he?

Castiel could feel the lust floating around the small town, the way everyone stank of confusion. A glimpse of a reaper inside a building caught his attention, but then it disappeared. He raised an eyebrow, then began walking, continuing on towards where Dean would most likely be. He'd come to understand the man in some form that allowed him to predict some of the things Dean would do. But he was greeted with something that allowed him to understand, watching as the older Winchester was walking off towards the motel. He felt a twinge inside him and he knew better than to disturb - _privacy_ and _space_ was what Dean had referred to it as in such cases. This left Castiel to stand there and wait until the woman left Deans' motel room. Though, as he stood there, his eyes glued to the motel room door, he wondered if Dean was in any condition to be hearing what was going on above, if the man could even help him. Something was biting at him and telling him he couldn't, but Castiel knew that he wouldn't until he tried. Dean was the only other option that he had.

**Morning**

Dean was awake and in the shower, praying to the shower head itself that the girl in his motel bed would be gone by the time he got out. The hot water against his face was agitating, but comforting. The overwhelming heat it gave off when it touched his skin was both intoxicating and all too familiar. Ever since his time in hell, warmth had never been a huge thing for him. He recalled the heat and the sweat, recalled what it felt like to feel that intense heat on his own - which brought his mind right back to Sam. Sam was in the pit, in the cage, down below. Sam was in purgatory and here he was, all on his own, living his life while Sam suffered. Dean placed both hands against the wall of the shower, sucking in a deep breath as the steaming water crashed against his face. He closed his eyes and tasted the motel water, wondering what his brother was going through. Was he dealing with the same things that he had? It had been six whole months and Dean was still nowhere on how to help Sam. What was he to do?

When the shower water stopped running and he got out, towel wrapped around his lower half, Dean found himself rather pleased to see the woman was gone. It helped his thoughts rest a bit as he dried off and pulled on some fresh clothes, laying his shirt on the bed next to him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He was in a single bed motel room and he felt more alone like this. He closed his eyes and dropped backwards against the rough bed, not bothering to open his eyes. He knew more troubles would pop up, and he knew they would pass. But right then? He just wanted to think about the man below his feet, the man who needed his help more than anything in the world - and there wasn't a damn thing he could do. This simple thought was eating away at Dean and he didn't think it was going to go away. It hadn't gone away for Six months, and he didn't see it starting to go away now. Things didn't work that way, not for him.

A brief gust of wind cut Dean's thoughts short and he was nearly falling off the bed as he got to his feet and turned to see someone he hadn't seen in just over six months. His eyes narrowed to the angel standing before him. The angel he had gone and prayed to a few times just to see if he would answer his call - but Castiel hadn't. No. He had _ignored_ him. Before Castiel could even get anything out though, Dean was laughing in the same sarcastic manner he would when something was just too good to be true, and Castiel was used to this. It was better to wait for it to pass though, the angel knew this as he stepped forward and closer to the hunter who seemed to be wrapped up in the moment. Castiel was in the same room. Had found him. Was looking at him with that damn straight face of his and all Dean wanted to do was punch him - but he remembered just how well that had worked out the first time he had done that - which was why he would **not** punch the angel.

Dean's laughter died down quickly and he looked to Castiel with the same disbelieving look he had gotten before, "Always nice to see that you haven't changed," he choked out, not in the mood to deal with whatever he had come to him for, and Dean could only _imagine_ what Castiel was there for. But Castiel tilted his head to the side, unaware of Dean's thoughts, only his present mood. He had expected as much from the Winchester, knowing that he would be broody and upset, and probably confused. He had heard Dean's prayers, heard his calls in the middle of the night. But Castiel had been unable to answer because he had needed to try and regain control of the rebellion - but Dean didn't know about this. He had not breathed a word of it to Dean. It wasn't his problem to face, so he hadn't wanted to burden the already distraught hunter with more issues. Especially when it came to the angels.

Castiel watched as Dean pulled his shirt on and waited a moment before he spoke, "Dean, I'm sorry that I did not respond to your calls," he said bluntly, earning a typical eye roll from the hunter, "I have had.. more _pressing_ matters to attend to," but before Castiel could get anymore out, Dean was standing eye-to-eye with Castiel, almost. Dean's height allowed him to look down at the angel, his eyes narrowed with anger. More pressing? He couldn't believe Castiel had just said that to him. To his _face_, "I know you are concerned for your bro-" but now Dean had no choice but to cut off Castiel. He did not want to hear the angel who had been saved, who had been _chosen_ go on and tell him he knew he was upset and blah, blah, blah.

"**No**," Dean said, the annoyed expression still there are Castiel stared at him with those big blue eyes, "You don't get to talk about Sam, Cas'," he said, nearly seething as he spoke Sam's name, thought of his brother in a way that wasn't pleasant. He couldn't think about the good times they had, it wasn't possible for him. No, all he could think about was what had happened and how he was so damn powerless to stop it, "You're upstairs playing with the big kids while I'm stuck down here trying to deal with my _brother_ who is stuck down in the cage because your angel buddies," he cooed, letting out a bit of a sarcastic chuckle.

Now, Castiel and Dean both knew that it wasn't because of the angels that Sam was down in the pit - it was only a partial involvement that helped aid in that eventual coming, but Castiel knew better than to argue with the hunter. Especially when Dean was angry, "I've been dealing with a rebellion, Dean," and then Dean was huffing and shaking his head, mumbling something Castiel couldn't quite catch. He found himself growing annoying, "_Dean,_" he said in a voice that was deeper, signaling annoyance. Dean caught this and looked to Castiel, stopping himself from continuing to pace around the motel room, "I want to help you, but I need your help as well," Dean smirked to this as Castiel spoke - how he was _not_ supposed to smirk? Castiel had just proposed the idea of the both of them needing to help each other when the angel could have flopped down whenever he had wanted to. Then again, Dean hadn't made it easy to track him down, and he had done this on purpose.

It would have been easy for Dean to just walk away from Castiel right then, but he found himself unable to. Castiel was one of the few people he could tolerate. Also, he couldn't it that well, but he felt less alone with the angel around. It was a comforting feeling, a foreign feeling, but something he welcomed - _somewhat_. His eyes landed on the angel though, knowing that Castiel was definitely annoyed with him and he realized he wasn't properly listening to what Cas' had to say. He supposed he could at least hear him out before turning into an ass. Dean was aware he was being a moron.

But what else did Castiel expect of Dean though? He had ignored him when Dean had needed the man most and this told him just what Castiel thought of the friendship, or bond, or whatever the hell this was, "Alright, so all the angels are going a-wall?" Castiel tilted his head as Dean said this and the hunter sighed, knowing exactly what Cas' would say right then, "They're fighting. About what?" and now the oblivious angel seemed to understand, which helped Dean relax-somewhat. As much as Castiel was a pain, he was glad the ma- er, the _angel_ hadn't changed. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to be _polite_ with the annoyance of a strict-angel in his presence.

"Yes, they are rebelling," Castiel said once more, "Some have even just disappeared. Raphael is leading the rebellion," Dean remembered the name, then remembered who Raphael was. It had only taken a minute to remember that, that angel in particular was the teenage mutant ninja angel who had been a pain in their ass before, "They still wish for the apocalypse to forth," and now Dean was extremely confused. Why the hell would the angels want the apocalypse to still happen?

"Hold on, the angels... you're telling me they are are trying to kick start the damn thing all over again?" Dean frowned when Castiel nodded. Of course this would happen. What else could possibly go wrong now? Though, he found himself wishing he'd never thought that. He knew he had just gone and jinxed himself. _Wonderful_. He just wanted a break from everything. He just wanted to help Sammy, but he knew wasn't going to get that just yet, "So, what needs to be done? Some kind of angel mojo?" and then Castiel was tilting his head to the side again, which caused Dean to grumble a bit inwardly, "What are you going to do about it?" he asked point blank, trying to make simpler for the oblivious angel.

Castiel nodded, understanding Dean's comment now, "I am doing all I can," and there was Cas' being himself. Always vague on the details with whatever it was he was up to. Dean just wanted to know something besides information on his brother. And if it was information on Sam? For the love of- he wanted to _know_, "I'm looking for Balthazar," Castiel said. Dean opened up his mouth, ready to ask who, but Cas' was already talking, "I fought alongside him for many years," he said, glancing away from Dean now, which made Dean wonder what had happened with the other angel, "And he has just up and disappeared."

Dean didn't know how the hell he was supposed to help in this situation, "Alright? So how does this fall into my area?" he asked, not knowing what else to say. Castiel had come to him for help - but Dean didn't think he was going to be all that helpful when he could barely understand what the angel was talking about in the first place. Not to mention his mind wasn't completely on what was going on in front of him. No. He was glad he wasn't alone, that he was in the presence of an apparent _friend_, but he wanted to embrace the loneliness again. To go back and continue trying to help Sam, to go back to being a _normal_ hunter. But Dean wasn't stupid, he knew this wouldn't be happening so long as the holy tax accountant was seeking his help.

Castiel looked at Dean, not blind to the hunter and his awkward emotions traveling through the air, "I needed to make sure you were willing to help me. That you would help me find him," Dean took his seat on the edge of the bed again, running his hand through his practically dry hair. He didn't want to be dealing with more psycho angels like they had before. He knew he would be, but it was frustrating to no end, "I have an idea on where he might be," and this was thanks to something currently happening in a city that he had caught wind of through those he had dealt with previously, "I will look into the information I have found and then come back here once I know."

"And how exactly am I supposed to help you find him?" Dean lifted his head, ready to ask Castiel more questions - but like any other time before, Castiel was gone. Dean's eyes narrowed and he cursed loudly, pissed at the ignorance he'd just been shown. He stood up again and looked around the room. It was more empty and filled with darkness than it had been seconds ago and this pissed him off even more. Castiel had barged into his motel room to peg him with a question for help and Dean was left stranded and waiting for the angel to return and tell him what was going on. He was impatient, he didn't want to wait. He also didn't want to be alone with his thoughts of Sam anymore. But what else was there that he could do other than _wait_ in silence?

When the evening came, Dean was at a bar instead of the brothel, his eyes on the beer in his left hand. Still no word from Castiel and now he was stuck inside this small town until Cas' returned with whatever news he might have. He finger the bottle carefully, the sweat droplets amusing him as he grasped the bottle again and took another drink from the beer. He'd been there for about an hour, was on his third beer, and feeling pretty content. He wouldn't have much more, he didn't want to be out of it when Castiel returned. If he even returned that night. He realized that it could be longer than that before Castiel returned and he knew that he wouldn't have much time to himself when that happened - sorry, he would have tons of time to himself, lots of time. He would just be scared shitless on occasion when Castiel deemed himself fit to drop in. His attention was pried away from the bottle though when a blond came and sat down next to him, "Name's Angela," she said in a rather cute little voice, "So, why don't you go ahead and buy me a drink?"

And suddenly Dean found himself in the same situation that he had been in the previous night. Another woman, different hair colour and eye colour. She was rough, not like the woman from the night before. None of this mattered as he combed his fingers through the back of her hair, opening up the door just like he had before. She let her arms come away from him and she chuckled as he shut the door and locked it, turning around slowly to see her standing there. He stepped forward, one hand taking hold of her waist, the other taking hold of the center of her skinny jeans, unbuttoning them quickly. Their lips connected and he pulled her closer to him suddenly, wanting to feel what little warmth she seemed to have. Her hands slid up his chest as she allowed herself to be brought closer to him. Dean kept her close to him, even as her fingers trailed the ends of his shirt and she helped him remove it. But before it could continue... she noticed something that most people noticed and questioned.

"..what's this?" Angie - no - Angel - no - _Angela_ asked, using her index finger to trace the hand print left behind by Castiel. Dean felt the shiver inside him as she touched and he suddenly wished she hadn't. He didn't like her touching it, he despised when people touched it. He knew it was only human curiosity - but when someone touched it, he felt like his throat was closing up and he couldn't breathe. It reminded him that he had been in hell and that he was still damaged. That his brother was still suffering and he was ready to snap. He pulled his head further away from her though, both hands now resting on her waist as she looked up at him with her big, blue eyes, "Sorry," she said, clearly realizing she had hit some kind of nerve unintentionally. He knew she hadn't meant to, but it still bugged him. Because now Dean was getting the chills - and they weren't the good kind. No, not the kind he enjoyed in the least.

Dean took hold of Angela's hand and took it away from the burn mark, "An accident," was all he could muster out, feeling himself growing colder. She knew things had changed right then as she took her hand from his and buttoned up her pants. Between her leaving and the constant apologies, Dean thought he was going to burst out laughing. But he didn't. Instead, Dean decided to take his hand and smack everything off the table closest to him, smashing the lamp into the wall. The bulb smashed, but he didn't care right then. When the small outburst did nothing, he punched the wall, thinking about the moment when Castiel had brought him out. Thinking about everything it had done to him and everything it was doing to Sammy. He needed to get Sam out, he needed to find away. He punched the wall again and groaned, withdrawing his hand and realizing how badly he regretted doing that. The chilled pain going up his arm was nothing pleasant and he knew he'd probably sprained something, or worse.

Dean stepped over to the door and locked it, sighing as he turned around on his heel and looked to the bed he would be alone in again tonight. Castiel was still gone - which he was glad for thanks to that little excursion he had just been involved in. He sat down on the edge of the bed like he had before and looked to the broken lamp, realizing what he had done. His eyes looked to his slightly mangled hand that was now bleeding and he realized he couldn't feel the pain anymore. Why couldn't he feel the pain? That was what he wanted.. was to feel it all over again, but his mind was elsewhere. It was always on Sam when he wanted it somewhere else. He wanted to not be so choked up wondering if he was okay; Dean wanted to stop falling to pieces. But he couldn't stop the wound from growing inside himself - it was Sam who should be where he was, not the other way around. His eyes went to the door again, wishing the girl hadn't left suddenly. When he was _with_ someone, he felt something. Sure, it wasn't what he was looking for, but it brought him some kind of relief. Dean was still alive; but he felt as though he was hardly even breathing. And now he had to _wait_ for something. He had to wait for Castiel. He was just sick of waiting...

**Meanwhile**

Castiel stood outside a home, peering at the inscriptions along the walls, knowing he could not enter. His only other option was to go to Dean and have him go in there. But he wasn't about to send Dean into some kind of death trap. No, he wouldn't do that. What he would do was wait until the woman he was waiting for emerged from the small home and then he would get her. Surely, she would know he was waiting for her though, which was why he stood in the background. The farther away he was, the more likely she was to show her face. Though, Castiel was wondering how Dean was fairing back at the small motel. He had noticed the way the hunter had looked and he couldn't say he completely understood - in fact, he didn't understand. But he feared for him and his thoughts in regards to Sam. The hunter was digging himself a hole by looking for a way to free Sam. From what Castiel knew, raising Sam from the depths below would invoke more than just a rage... especially if Lucifer did **not** come with him. And this was the major concern.

Would Lucifer be out of Sam by the time he was out?  
Or would the fallen angel latch himself to the vessel he sought out?


	4. Preview of Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**  
_Over and Over_

Castiel went to check a lead in the previous chapter after finding Dean in a bit of a rut. Realizing he was going to still need Dean's help, he is able to ask the hunter for a hand. Dean, knowing Castiel isn't one to be so formal, accepts and says he'll help. Though, he has no idea what he is going to be doing thanks to Castiel taking off and leaving him behind at the motel to think about it. The chapter ended with Castiel outside of said lead's home which was coated in angelic charms and what-not to keep someone like him out. To keep an angel out of their home. Now he wants silently for her, wondering what will happen if Sam is to be released from purgatory.

**Brief Summary::.**

In chapter two, _Over and Over_, you will see Dean reliving his time spent in the cage with the chains and the torture. You will see Castiel grabbing and kidnapping someone. Dean and Castiel will exchange words over Sam's presence in hell and Dean will try to make a deal with a crossroads demon just once to see how it will go - only to have it interrupted by a certain not-so-pleasant angel.

**Now::..**

I would like to say thank you to those reading along. I hope you enjoy the future chapters to come.


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